


Onions

by Bookshido



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Angstgiving, Depression, Loss, Loss of Innocence, Mental Breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookshido/pseuds/Bookshido
Summary: Dean and Sam make dinner together and Dean is on onion duty.





	Onions

“Dean, can you cut the onions for me?” Sam yelled across the kitchen of the bunker as he stirred a thick tomato sauce in a deep black pot. 

Dean nodded his consent and walked across the kitchen to the cutting boards. As he walked, a wave of spiced scent blasted him right in the face and made Dean give an involuntary sigh of pleasure. The combination of cayenne, lemon, black pepper, and sauteing vegetables made his mouth water and Dean could almost taste the burritos and enchiladas. And a grin crossed his face when he thought of the explosive farting that often accompanied whenever the brothers ate Hispanic food of any kind.

Dean pulled a knife from the wooden knife holder with a flourish and a small smile like he had just drawn the sword from the stone. Seizing the first of the two onions, he slammed it on the cutting board and began to peel it quickly and efficiently, finishing in less than a minute before moving on to the next one. He glanced over at Sam, hoping that his brother had seen his skills, but seeing that Sam’s back was to him, he scowled and evenly sliced the first onion in half. 

It made a thick and dull noise on the plastic cutting board and reminded Dean of the one time his father had let him practice throwing knives at a dartboard in their hotel room. He smiled at that and sliced again, narrowly missing his fingers with the knife as he cut it into fourths. He winced, remembering all the nicks and cuts that Sam and he had collected over the years. Dean started on the main dicing, watching his fingers with a deeply engaged expression and making them as pin-point precise as every even cut that he had ever made. 

Dean paused for a moment to wipe his brow and grab and rag to wipe his eyes on. Sam had picked strong onions that were already affecting his eyes. Sighing, he went back to work on the onion.

The thud of the knife seemed to fill in his heartbeat and echo the beating making him seem to feel the pulse throughout his whole body.

Without his control, Dean began to remember hunts from many years back. 

His first vampire nest.  _That_  was a nightmare. John had nearly been killed because Dean had gotten careless. Sam was sleeping at the motel while they fought for their lives.

_Sam’s_  first official hunt with Dean and John. A vengeful spirit, nothing they hadn’t handled before, but mean enough that when it rushed Sam, Dean was about to leap between them. Sam had managed to fend it off with a salt gun, but it was still something Dean looked back on with fear. 

The nightmares after losing Cas and bargaining his soul. Knowing what lay in store for him when he died. 

Having to say goodbye to Lisa and Ben before he died. Having to leave them again.

Seeing so many people fall in the War Against Lucifer.

So many burning regrets.

The chopping became more furious and soon Dean was squinting through tears, ignoring the growing wetness pooling on his chin, ready to drop onto his shirt and the counter. 

With every thud of knife on plastic, a new name and face filled his mind.

_Jessica._

Sam’s pain and loss.

_Lisa_.

A lost new future.

_Benny_.

A new lost friend.

_Jo._

A lost sister.

_Ellen._

A lost mentor.

_Bobby._

A lost family member.

_Dad._

Dean couldn’t hold it together after the image of his dad came back. He slumped over the counter, dropping the knife onto the cutting board and leaning over his elbows becoming soaked in onion juice as huge, gasping sobs escaped him. 

He hadn’t even said goodbye.

Sam rushed over at the first sob, leaving the sauce to burn and stick to the bottom of the pot as he pulled Dean away from the cutting board and helped him to his room, leaving a sticky, spicy trail of chopped onions dropped on the bunker floor behind them.

Dean collapsed onto the bed and couldn’t stop sobbing until long after the sting of onions had left his eyes.

_He hadn’t said goodbye…_


End file.
